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Somewhere along the way: Reflections on seasonal conditions

COMMENTARY

Robert Stone, who edits and sends Tom Chaney's column, "On Writers and Their Books," a very popular feature on ColumbiaMagazine.com, has sent a column by novelist Wilmoth Foreman, reprinted below with permission of the author. This column has also appears in the Columbia (TN) Daily Herald. We hope CM readers like this columnist as much as they have appreciate Tom Chaney and Rob Stout writing Another Angle as "Rev. Joey N. Welsh." Please let us know

By Wilmoth Foreman


Somewhere Along the Way: Reflections on seasonal conditions good and bad
Let's start off with a poem. It must've been a gray day when friend Russ Peery*** wrote:


WINTER WEARY

It's not that I am often cold.
There's sufficient heat within our house.
There's also down around me when I walk
and when I go to sleep.
It's not that I must shovel snow
for snow's been scarce this year.
I haven't fallen through the ice
as once I did long, long ago.
Compared to many places
our dreary weeks are fairly mild.
The lengthening of days
seems not to harbinger
that spring is coming soon
but only offers more exposure
to the landscape's gloom.

I think complaining helps
and through it find camaraderie
in my grumbling.

About the time Russ was drawing a word picture of the season, news from points north was: "We're really getting a bunch of snow. This feels like a good old nor'easterner." A couple of days later came the update: "We ended up with 13 inches or so on level ground." There were pictures to prove it.

Meanwhile, after splashdown in our gray gloom, a Nashvillian lamented: "I just got back from Austin [Texas], where it was 72 degrees...."

Of course, the big weather news is the tragedy that results when temps from the "nor'easterner" collide with un-seasonal warmth to spawn tornadoes. Pictures can't capture the many levels of devastation left in their paths.

One family in a hard-hit Tennessee area reports that their county "looks like someone dropped a bomb on her." Since their house was not directly in any tornado's path, it will "only" need new shingles and siding. They were without electricity for four days, so all the food in their deep freeze spoiled.

Also, a large storage unit full of their belongings was leveled. Between the tornado and looters, they were able to recover very little of its contents. "The other stuff, material stuff you can't fit in the house but you can't let go of just because, is all gone...."

That "stuff" included camping equipment, Christmas decorations, most pictures.

By literally crawling through and under piles of debris, the husband retrieved a few of what had been many scrapbooks. And was overjoyed to find a pair of his blue jeans!

This couple acknowledges, "We were the lucky ones."

That phrase -- "We were the lucky ones" -- was heard over and over by Jesse's sister in Jackson, who responded to her city's state of emergency by volunteering to answer telephones. "No matter how sad a tale we heard from victims, most of them ended by saying others had it much worse."

Faye also noted that calls from people who wanted to help far outnumbered calls from folk asking for help.

Here at home, a racist hate crime has been met with similar outpourings of concern. In Tuesday's Daily Herald, Daoud Abudiab, president of the local Islamic Center that was burned to the ground by arsonists, is quoted regarding numerous offers of help and worship space from local churches: "I'm overwhelmed but not surprised," he said. "I'm not a stranger to Christian faith. I've seen it so many times in this community."

Meanwhile, back in the tornado zone, the shingle-less family's power is back on and their phones are finally working. But animals are still roaming around the area "... displaced, hungry, and scarred." [I wondered if "scarred" was a typo for "scared." Then decided both were probably the case.]

The report noted that anyone able to foster a dog, cat, or horse should contact the Red Cross and/or any churches in the torn-up areas that are accepting donations of other services and goods.

Loving responses to recent disasters are spreading faster than the hate-fed flames of racists; are echoing louder than the fleeing footsteps of looters.

Tis the season for a real life Valentine to and from the human condition.

Wilmoth Foreman grew up on the outskirts of Columbia, Tennessee. Her first novel, Summer Of The Skunks, is available in bookstores and on Amazon.

*** Every Monday, Russ posts a new batch of his poems on his web site: http://www.russpeery.com . Winter Weary by Russ Peery, February 11, 2008: http://www.russpeery.com/?p=112


This story was posted on 2008-02-18 02:43:43
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